My Resting Face
by Saffa
Summary: It's a rainy day and the Avenger's decide to gather at Stark's tower. However they're in for a surprise. It comes in the form of Clint Barton's face.


**A/N – Okay, as promised in my previous story "Where's the hammer!" This is based upon the Avenger's interview from 6.02 to 6.37 [** watch?v=OAiq8y9GR7o&feature=relmfu **or look up "The Avengers on the Morning Show**] **where the interviewer comments that Renner (faints over him) is known as the 'Hollywood man of Intensity'. Couldn't help myself on this one. **

**Please enjoy~**

* * *

**My Resting Face**

It was a rainy Thursday. No different than all other Thursdays except that for some reason all the Avengers were free that day. (According to Natasha, Fury had a date and so had forgotten about work…) So seeing as it was raining and there was nowhere else the Avengers had to be, they all decided to go to Stark towers.

Clint was there first. "Hey Jarvis." He greeted the AI who admitted him entry upon a retinal scan.

"Welcome." The computer said formally as he opened the elevator door to the soaking wet Avenger. Hawkeye shook his head and wiped water out his eye. He didn't care he was dripping water on Stark's elevator floor because well…it was Stark's elevator floor.

He didn't care even more when he arrived at Stark's living room because it was empty. So the wet Avenger decided to go for a shower (Stark had reluctantly lent them a common shower to be used whenever needed after Pepper bullied him into doing so). After which, there was still nobody around. So he might as well watch TV. God knows when the last time he'd watched TV was.

Three minutes later, Clint was splayed out on the plush couch, coffee in one hand and remote in the other. He flicked through several channels and finally settled on watching a movie: The Three Musketeers. He let himself relax, enjoying the peace and quiet and the rare chance of a break – Clint let the stress unwind.

* * *

It was a wet day and there was nothing more that annoyed Bruce than a wet day. So he hurried through the streets of Manhattan to Stark towers where he hoped Tony had a hot drink and shower. He could use a little break.

At the entrance Jarvis granted him quick access. Bruce gratefully ran into the elevator as the rain hammered down harder. "Raining cats and dogs." He muttered.

A few short seconds later, the elevator _pinged_, announcing the arrival at Stark's living room. Bruce stumbled out of the door and was handed a towel by one of Stark's entrance robots. He thanked the robot (habit really) and began wiping his damp hair and face. As he walked further into the living room, he heard sounds of swords clashing and heated yelling.

It came from the TV screen (152-inch Panasonic Full HD and 3D of course) where all Bruce could see was the sandy brown top of a head. He recognized it immediately. Clint had been the first to get there.

"Hey Clint." Bruce called out as he walked over to where the archer was sprawled and then he suddenly jumped backwards. "Clint!"

"What?" Clint asked, looking upwards from his mug. He blinked at Bruce's aghast expression. "What!"

"Nothing…" Bruce said, relaxing slightly. "Just that…your face."

Clint raised an eyebrow. "What about my face?"

"It was a little…intense…" Bruce tried to explain. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Clint waved away the man's worries. "You're overreacting."

"That so…" Bruce trailed off, seeing nothing else wrong. "Then I guess I'll go have a shower."

"You do that." Clint turned his attention back to the movie, relaxing once more.

* * *

It was a wet day, but not more so than many of the times Steve had set out on a mission back in the good ole days. Back when Bucky was next to him and Peggy at the radio.

In fact, rainy days were Steve's favorite. They reminded him of Peggy whose mood had always reflected the rain: a fluctuation between soothing and furious. They also reminded him of where Bucky had died, down in a watery death of the falls…but at least it was something to remember Bucky by. Now sunny days…that was worse.

But rainy nonetheless was annoying after a while and Steve decided to get out of the pouring weather and into Stark's hopefully warm home. Jarvis admitted him entry easily. The supersoldier had come and gone from Stark towers all too often.

In a matter of seconds he was in Stark's living room which was blessedly warm. The sounds of gunfire alerted him for a second before he realized it came from Stark's overly large TV. Steve padded over to the sound and saw two heads popping out from the lush sofas. One was sandy haired – Clint – and the other was a soft brown – Bruce.

"Wet day, huh." Steve said by way of greeting as he toweled himself off.

"Hey Steve." Bruce said, turning around to face him. Along the way, he looked at Clint and stiffened momentarily. Then he matched eyes with Steve. Curious, Steve walked over to where Clint was splayed out and was shocked by what he saw.

"Clint!" he choked. "What's wrong?"

Clint raised his face to look at Steve. "Huh?" he sounded confused.

"I mean – look – at your…your face…" he said, blinking rather quickly.

"What's wrong with my face?" Clint sounded puzzled.

"Ah…" Steve leaned closed to study Clint's face. "Well…it's normal now."

"Normal?" Clint sounded indignant. "My face is always normal."

"No." Steve shook his head. "Just now…it was…out of this world."

Clint raised an eyebrow. "Don't look at me like that Clint." Steve raised his voice slightly. "Your face was just weird…"

Clint raised the other eyebrow. "Argh." Steve said lifting both hands in the air. "I give up. It must have been just me." Bruce chose to say nothing.

"I'm going to get a shower, then I'll be back." Steve said, walking away.

"There's definitely something going on." He muttered behind their backs.

* * *

It was a very wet day. Raining cats and dogs as Pepper liked to call it. It was annoying slippery and her heels were constantly sliding over the slick surface. Umbrella's also weren't meant to be inverted either. It was almost a relief to get to Stark towers. Jarvis let her in within seconds. She practically owned the building after all. At least 12% of it.

The elevator whose problems during construction had been blamed on her by Tony (all because she didn't want him lifting those delicate glass etches) whizzed her up to their living room within seconds. And as the door opened and a robot offered her a soft towel, she heard sounds of explosions from the living room TV.

Three heads popping out from the sofa was her answer. One was sandy brown, another a dense shock of brown and the last was golden blonde. Three boys home already.

"Hey Pepper." Steve was the first to greet her. She remembered how long it had taken her to break him out of calling her ma'am or Ms Potts. (Natasha had it easier. She'd just whipped out a gun every time Steve called her Ms Romanoff and Steve learned pretty fast). His hair was slightly damp and flattened as if it had just been washed and he was knocking back a warm cup of coffee.

"Mmm." Pepper drooled. "That coffee looks good."

"It is." Steve stood up and walked over to the kitchen. "Let me make you a cup as well."

"Thanks Steve." She said warmly. "It was pretty cold out there."

Steve handed her a cup which warmed her hands immediately, before sitting down again. Pepper walked over towards the TV and said "Ahhh. The Three Musketeers." She recognized the four men battling their way along a flying ship. "Good movie."

"Hey Pepper." Bruce smiled up at her. "How you doing?"

"Good now that I'm considerably drier." The corner of her mouth quirked. She turned around to Clint who raised a hand in greeting. But Pepper jumped back, nearly spilling her coffee on the rugs.

"Clint!" she exclaimed. "Whatever is wrong with you?"

Clint's eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong with my face?" he muttered. "Bruce and Steve already commented about that."

"Oh…" Pepper looked confused as she looked harder at Clint's face. "No…it's just that a minute ago it looked a little…"

"A little?"

"A little tense."

Clint blinked. He sure as hell didn't feel tense. Rather he hadn't been this relaxed in ages. "Well I'm definitely not tense." He confessed. "I'm right relaxed."

"Oh…" Pepper shook herself. "Maybe it was just my eyes."

"And apparently mine and Steve's eyes are a little off as well." Bruce grumbled.

"Maybe it's just the rain and the lighting that makes Clint's face look…umm….a little strange." Steve suggested.

"Well." Pepper coughed and finished her coffee. "I'll just go get changed into something more comfortable. A shower would be nice as well." She murmured.

As she walked away, Pepper tapped her forehead with a fist. "Gosh." She said to herself. "You must be imagining things."

* * *

It was an ungodly sort of weather and one Thor definitely did not like. It made his hair tangled his clothes cling to him. Thor of course didn't have an umbrella with him. They were too unwieldy to carry around.

So Thor just made do with the rain and stalked over to Stark tower where the showers were big enough for him to not break something by turning around. They also had poptarts over there. Jarvis admitted him entry quickly. There weren't many people the same size as Thor, so identification was easy. Three seconds later he was in Stark's living room and was greeted by a towel and the eager clashes of battle and crunching wood.

"Battle!" Thor cried. "I like it."

All four people around the TV looked up in surprise as the giant man trudged over, water dripping down his face as he stared at the TV with delight. Pepper smiled. "Hello Thor." She said as she stood up to towel him dry properly. "Do you want a drink?"

"That would please me well." Thor said solemnly but soon returned his gaze to the TV. "What is this…fascinating…battle?" he asked.

"It's the Three Musketeers." Bruce explained. "Come watch."

"I will." Thor smiled and sat down abruptly on a spare sofa, ignoring the way it groaned under his weight. "It looks entertaining."

"It is." Steve chipped in. "I'm quite surprised how good the effects are. It feels almost like real combat." Thor looked at him in agreement.

"Just a little over the top though." Clint added. "The swords are well made though." Thor then looked over at the sprawled archer and jumped backwards, nearly falling off the sofa.

"Clint!" he yelled, well over the sound of the movie. "Whatever is wrong with you? Are you ill? Injured? Tell me."

Clint's eyes glinted with clear anger. "Please!" he cried lifting both hands to the heavens in mock prayer. "Tell me what is wrong with my face!"

Thor's eyes narrowed as he inspected Clint closely. He held out one hand and pushed Clint's face first to the left, then to the right. "I'm not sure, friend." He admitted. "But I think you should see a healer."

"Healer, my ass." Clint growled. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"Are you sure?" Thor sounded genuinely worried. "Perhaps it is the after-effects of battle?" he suggested. But Clint shook his head.

"Trauma?" Clint rolled his eyes.

"Maybe that Midgarian thing called…hormones?" Clint buried his face in his hands.

"I'm past being a teenager, Thor." He said desperately much to the laughter of Pepper and Steve. Bruce explained to Thor that hormones were something which appeared only when you were a teenager and Clint was definitely over that already.

"Then I'm afraid I cannot help you." Thor said sorrowfully.

"That's alright Thor." Clint waved off the big man's worries. "I'm not dying, I'm alright."

"If you insist, friend." Thor said but there was still worry clouding his eyes.

"I insist."

"Then I shall leave you alone."

"Good." Clint snorted. "Now let's get on with the movie. We're missing the bit where D'Artagnan fighting Rochefort. It's the good part people!"

* * *

It was a wet, miserable day. Even more miserable since Fury was alone. He decided to go to Stark towers and make hell of the annoyingly-pompous billionaire. It was even more miserable since Jarvis took five minutes to decide he was safe enough to enter Stark towers.

By then, the director of SHIELD was soaking wet to bone. "Apologies." Jarvis said coolly. "You may now enter." Fury grumbled as the lift carried him upwards and he entered a very plush, very comfortable living room. He was met with the sounds of yelling and heated battle.

"Stark!" he called out, fully intending to give him hell about his faulty robot. Instead he was met with an apologetic Pepper who said "Tony's out."

Fury grumbled again. Just his luck. Miserably wet and Stark's not there to be made fun of.

"You look soaked." Pepper patted his shoulder comfortingly. "How about a shower and some coffee."

Fury found himself calming down around the gentle strawberry blonde. _Damn Stark_, he hissed in his mind_, How'd he get such a good woman. _

"I'll take you up on that offer." Fury nodded and Pepper walked away to prepare a mug. The TV however drew Fury's interest. He wandered over to the plush array of sofas and rugs and a HD TV to find four of his Avengers lying there lazily.

Thor raised a half-empty mug at him, greeting him but then quickly turning back to the enrapturing battle of swords. Bruce nodded at him respectfully. _There's a man every commander needs_, Fury thought. _Not a Stark though._ "Hello Commander Fury." Steve said, gracing his presence dutifully.

Pepper sauntered back with a mug in one hand and the phone in another. "Tony says he'll be back soon." She smiled. Fury however didn't. "Drink this, then go have a shower." She instructed him.

Fury accepted the mug and turned around to see the last of the four avengers lying splayed out on a sofa. Just as he did, he choked on his coffee and spluttered. Thor stood up and helpfully – or maybe not so helpfully – wacked him on the back.

"Enough." He coughed. "Enough Thor."

Thor nodded and sat back down. "Thank you Thor." He said as he wiped his mouth. He waved away Pepper's suddenly worried look.

"Agent." He said, his forehead creasing. "Are you okay?"

Clint looked up and gave a mock salute. Then his forehead creased. "What'd you mean?" he asked.

"Uh." Fury didn't know how to say this. "It's just you look a bit…on edge."

Clint raised one sore eyebrow (he'd been raising that eyebrow a lot today) and stared at the man.

"What I mean." Fury rephrased himself. "Is that your face looks a bit strange."

At that, Clint's eyes hardened. "I'm fine Director Fury." He hissed. "Go take a shower." Clint stood up and stalked over to the kitchen where he poured himself more coffee. Fury turned around to look at the others curiously. His agent had never sounded more disrespectful.

"Ah." Pepper looked uncertain. "He's just been asked that question too many times today."

"It's just the light." Steve snorted into his drink. "Ignore Mr. Moody."

"Very well." Fury said, confusion plain on his face. "I'll uh…ignore him…"

"Yes, please." Clint muttered, returning to his chair. "Ignore me."

* * *

It was an insanely wet day and Loki was soaked. His hair was flat against skin and he had to constantly wipe away the drenched locks that blocked his vision.

Since the Avenger's battle in Manhattan nearly six months ago, Loki had been brought back to earth for 'community service' as Odin put it. Fury had agreed and so here was Loki: on stinking, dripping wet Earth and limited to a few locations for his 'safety'.

It just so happened that Stark towers was one of the exclusive places he was still allowed into.

So there he was. In front of Stark towers, dripping wet, and waiting an age for Jarvis to allow him to enter. It seemed Stark had programmed the damnable computer to take its sweet time. But eventually he was in the lift and then in Stark's living room.

Loki entered the room, shaking his head like a dog. In front of him was a plushy living room with warm rugs, soft sofas and a strange sound of clashing swords front this large box in the middle of the room. Loki peered at the box curiously. Inside it was a bunch of strangely dressed Midgarians dancing around with fragile looking swords in their hands. It looked ridiculous to Loki.

But it intrigued him. So Loki walked closer to the strange moving box and there was met with a group of 5 people. All watching this strange show.

Thor looked up at Loki's entrance. "Brother." He greeted Loki curtly. Bruce frowned at him which made Loki nervous enough to not talk to the scientist. He still had bruises from his last encounter.

Steve just outright ignored him. He'd learned a long time ago that any attempt at conversation would just end in Steve crying in a corner.

Pepper – generous Pepper – was always the caring person. She hadn't forgiven Loki for the destruction of Manhattan but that didn't stop her from handing him a towel. (The robot had refused to give him one). At the very least Loki guessed it was to stop him dripping on the carpet.

Fury however was sulking to one side, nursing a cup of coffee, and just glared at Loki. He looked as miserable as Loki felt. Loki was just glad Fury didn't feel like carting him off to SHIELD jail because he was certainly capable of it.

And then there was Clint. Loki turned around to eye the archer with suspicion at his quietness. Normally the sharp-witted man would have spoken a barbed word or two by now. Loki looked at the agent and then took three steps back with horror.

"Asgard!" he swore loudly, drawing immediate attention. "What's wrong with your face!"

Clint threw his mug at Loki's face.

"Argh." Loki hissed as the mug shattered and a shard sliced a thin line of blood across his cheek. "My beautiful face."

Pepper said nothing but looked at them with a flat expression, warning Clint against breaking more pottery.

"What's with everyone harping on about my face?" Clint complained. "Is there something on my face? Did Stark draw something on it again?" He rubbed at his face furiously.

"There's nothing on your face." Pepper reassured him.

"It's just you had a rather…constipated expression." Loki explained and then ducked as Clint threw a pillow at his head.

"Not the pillows." Pepper warned them both.

"Why me too." Loki whined. "I've done nothing wrong."

"Shut it Prongs." Clint hissed, making a jab at Loki's extravagantly golden helmet. "Go sit in a corner and sulk would you."

"I will." Loki hissed back. "Excuse me."

"Believe me." Clint snorted. "You were excused outta here a looong time ago."

Loki winced.

* * *

It was an overly wet day. One that Natasha definitely did not enjoy. Rain cloaked her movement, but made it more slippery to move about. Thus she preferred the cover of night when working.

So seeing as it was pouring, she decided the best place to be right now was in Stark towers. Maybe Pepper would be there with a warm drink and a good conversation. Hopefully annoying Stark wouldn't be there either. That would make it all better.

Jarvis let her enter quickly and soon enough she was in Stark's living room. She had always liked the chic design which Pepper had concocted. From the exit of the elevator she could hear the sounds of yelling and crashing from a TV.

Natasha eagerly accepted a soft towel from a robot and walked over to where a group was gathered in front of the TV with popcorn and drinks on the table.

"Natasha!" Pepper cried out happily, welcoming the SHIELD agent warmly. "Come sit down." She patted a space next to her.

"Hey Natasha." Bruce smiled at her, but didn't move. Steve raised one hand in shy welcome.

"Welcome." Thor said heartily. "Come watch this intriguing battle."

Loki however was sulking in a corner with Fury. Both men cradled cups of coffee with had their backs to everyone in the room. They both ignored Natasha's entry and it didn't irk her one bit. (Though she did worry a bit about her boss' sanity) It did make her slightly curious. Natasha turned around to her partner with a questioning gaze. And she was taken aback at what she saw.

"Clint!" Natasha exclaimed "Are you alive?"

Clint's eyes narrowed. One eyebrow seemed to start twitching erratically.

"What's wrong?" Natasha sounded alarmed now. But Pepper put one reassuring hand on her shoulder to calm her down. "You look…rather…dead to the world, I guess."

"I'm fine." Clint said curtly. "Just stop all this going on about my face."

Natasha sat down looking deflated. "Sorry. It was just this weird expression. But you look fine now." She let out a sigh.

Clint sniffed, sounding offended. "Of course I'm fine."

But Natasha continued to stare intently at his face. She shifted closer. And closer. And then even closer. Till she was sitting right next to Clint and staring at his right cheek.

Clint twitched. "Natasha…?"

But Natasha ignored him and crawled closer. She tilted her head so that she looked at him straight in the face and then swung her leg over Clint so that she straddled him.

"Natasha!" Clint protested. "What are you doing?"

Natasha leaned in close so that she was touching noses with Clint. Around her, everyone else stilled at her sudden attack. Natasha looked at Clint for the longest of times, the movie was evidently forgotten. She looked at Clint intently and stared….stared…stared…as Clint grew red and his eyes widened.

"Natasha." He hissed and pushed her away.

"Good." Natasha said shortly and slid off his legs, returning back to her seat next to Pepper who shot her a quizzical look. "I guess you were alive after all."

Clint groaned. "Whenever did I die in the first place."

* * *

It was a wet day and Tony didn't really like wet days. The thunder and lightning reminded him all too well of gunfire and the rain blurred his vision. But right now he was in his Ironman suit and none of that troubled him.

Pepper had called him earlier to tell him everyone else was already in Stark towers and that he should come home quickly. She also told him to pick up some pizza.

So there he was, whizzing through Manhattan with a water-proof bag of steaming pizzas that he had only half eaten. He landed on his Ironman pad and walked off as his robots dismantled his suit. He strode into the living room announcing his presence "I have arrived." He declared. "And I bear gifts."

Pepper strolled over to welcome him in and kissed him on the cheek. "Welcome back." She took the pizzas and laid them out on the table where the Three Musketeers was nearing the end. "Food!"

"Hey people." Tony sounded indignant. "Why the lack of response?"

"Hey Stark." Steve grunted, not sounding too pleased to see him. Bruce simply nodded his greetings. Thor however stood up and gave Tony an exuberant embrace. "Welcome back, friend." He declared. "Come feast!"

Loki still sulked in a corner, tracing one finger on the floor in differing patterns. Tony ignored him.

However, Tony was more intrigued by the sulking Fury next to Thor. "Yo boss." He called out, seeing this as a great opportunity. "Why the long face?"

Fury turned around reluctantly. Seeing Stark was not a good addition to the day. But just as he opened his mouth to say something hopefully hurtful, Stark grinned. "I see." Stark smiled. "Your date dumped you."

Everyone froze half-eating pizza. They all turned to look at Fury who seemed to be growing red. "Stark!" he growled.

"No, no." Tony danced away from him. "Everyone loses a date or two. Don't cry over it." He ignored Pepper's angry glare. "I can even hook you up with someone else if you want another go at it."

Fury practically erupted. He stood up, screamed some noiseless sounds and then retreated back to the kitchen where he sat on the floor and rocked himself back and forth. Everyone decided it was best to leave him alone and returned to the pizza. Tony however wasn't satisfied yet.

"Come on." Tony opened his arms widely. "At least say something Natasha." He grinned at the red-haired woman who was snacking on the sofa.

"Go die." Natasha muttered.

"Harsh." Tony grinned. Then he turned around to make conversation with Clint but jumped back – startled.

"Dear lord!" he shouted. "What's wrong with you?"

Clint growled in response. This had happened too many times in one day. "Nothing." He snarled. "Don't you dare say something about my face."

"Ah…" Tony faltered. "It's just you had the…most…dead expression I'd ever seen. Like a wooden plank."

Clint got up from his chair, looking for a weapon as if to bash Tony on the head with.

"But it's um gone now." Tony tried to amend the situation. "It was a very strange face."

Clint picked up the nightstand.

"That's okay." Tony said hurriedly. "Everyone has a bad face from time to time."

"What is this face you're talking about!" Clint yelled, obviously getting tired of the foolery.

"This face." Natasha said bluntly, showing him a picture on her iPhone.

Everyone stared at the face for the longest of times. It was incredibly…intense.

"What's wrong with that face?" Clint muttered. "It's just my resting face."

"Resting face?" Bruce looked at his suspiciously.

"Yeah. You know. When I'm relaxing and watching this move and just thinking 'Hey, that a nice shirt!'" Clint protested. "That's just my normal face."

Everyone, including Loki, looked at him very suspiciously. "You try it." Clint suggested. So they did. And Clint laughed his head off taking pictures of everyone's 'relaxed face'.

"See." He snickered. "Tony looks depressed, Thor looks constipated, Bruce looks angry, Loki just looks like he died in a sewer, Steve looks asleep, Fury looks like Christmas came early, Pepper looks bored and Natasha…well she kinda just has her poker face on."

There was a variety of responses, most of them angry and outraged. But Clint found this hilarious.

"Shut it Clint." They muttered. "It's just our normal faces."

"Yeah." Clint laughed with mirth. "And that's called your resting face."

* * *

**Fin**

**A/N – So that's the end. A short…okay maybe it was a bit long…little bit of fun. Hope you enjoyed it all. This one was for Jeremy Renner, kyaa (faints again) sooo adorable. **

**Anyway, I'll be getting back to my other Avengers fanfic 'the only way to tell if you love me'. (Deeply apologizes for temporarily neglecting it)But I'll also be getting a short humor fanfic out (because I've been dying to get something humor-ish out) called 'Mission Impossible: Who is Loki's Lover?'**

**So please look forwards to them~**

**Thanks for everything. Hope you enjoyed it!**

**Over and out-**

**Saffa **


End file.
